


Playing with Fire

by rinnwrites



Series: Stories from the Stark Administration [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drunk Tony, First Son Tony Stark, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Secret Service Agent Bucky Barnes, Underage Drinking, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 18:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15371016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinnwrites/pseuds/rinnwrites
Summary: Bucky's been avoiding Tony since the incident with Howard, but Tony knows just how to get his attention.orTony Stark Bingo - R4: Asking for Trouble





	Playing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I had to make a timeline for my own sanity, so I thought I’d share it here. Note that the year isn’t particularly relevant (and I’m _probably_ not making any comments about the actual 2016 US election winner....), it’s really just to clarify the passage of time.  
>  Codename Heartbreaker & Reporting for Duty: November 2016  
> Protect & Serve: February 2018  
> The Devil’s Hand: January 2019  
> Playing with Fire: June 2019

Tony was taking a break between PhD’s. At least, that was the story he gave out to anyone who asked. With two under his belt by 20, he thought he quite well deserved a break this year. Of course, the challenge with taking a break from school was that he was expected to live full-time in Washington DC with his family….the President and First Lady. 

It wasn’t all bad. Particularly after what Tony was mentally calling “the incident” in the Oval Office, Howard was keeping him at arm’s length. Throwing crystal wasn’t exactly an impeachable offence, but some of his behavior probably was….and the man was smart enough not to rattle that cage when suspicion already lingered within his own administration. 

The whole thing had been rather cleanly swept under the rug, with Agent Rogers at the forefront, citing a belief that a window may have been broken, leaving the President and his son vulnerable and in need of protection as the reason for entry, and Howard putting forth a feeble explanation that essentially boiled down to “it slipped.” 

After a day or two of flailing about over the matter (and the curiously blank security tapes from the moments of “the incident”), the White House had settled, and Tony’d gone back to school where things were more-or-less the same...except for Bucky.

Bucky had been different ever since. Tony might not have noticed if they didn’t spend so much time together, but that in itself was the difference. Bucky hardly ever served as his detail anymore. He oversaw Tony’s protection, sure, but in the past few months that had meant assigning other agents to watch him. Even when Tony snuck out of the lab through the broken vent hood, it wasn’t Bucky that came to find him at home or sprawled out on Rhodey’s sofa. 

His own Secret Service agent was  _ avoiding _ him. Bucky was only ever by Tony’s side anymore for big press events, meaning they were almost never alone together. They hadn’t been, not really, since the day that Bucky had bandaged up his arm and Tony’d thanked him with that stupid kiss. 

Did he regret that decision? No. Well. Yes. 

Honestly? He wasn’t sure. 

The memory of Bucky’s lips was one that Tony cherished, the flush of desire and surprise on the man’s face before he rushed out the door? That had Tony’s blood pumping with just a fleeting thought. 

But would he give those memories up to have Bucky by his side again? Sipping coffee in Tony’s kitchen, reminding him in that low, calm voice that they were going to be late? Joking around about the other agents, reciting the updates he got on his comms, calling him  _ Heartbreaker _ ?

Maybe Tony would trade their kiss for all of that. 

He might not have done it if he’d known the tension it would cause. 

Tony was  _ sure _ , however, that it wasn’t because Bucky didn’t  _ like  _ him. 

He had eyes, for heaven’s sake, and the lingering, longing glances...those weren’t gone. They were just...less.

Maybe Bucky thought he could remain a mystery to Tony, but after all this time, Tony could see him. He  _ knew _ him. Bucky didn’t have to say it for Tony to know that he thought it was wrong, was taking advantage, because Tony was young, he was under Bucky’s protection, he was Bucky’s  _ job _ . 

That was understandable, but Tony didn’t love playing by the rules. He liked to get what he wanted, and what he wanted was Bucky. Bucky wanted him too, so it was really just a matter of helping him realize that they could have each other.

Of course, for that to happen, Bucky was going to need to pay attention to him, talk to him, and that had proven easier said than done, in Boston. 

Now they were in DC and Tony was just getting familiar with the tricks he could hide up his sleeve in the city’s vastness. He’d get Bucky’s attention, it was just a matter of when. 

 

*****

 

The cherry blossom smell was long gone, but the city was lazy and warm as the days stretched longer and longer, the late sunset washing the monuments in pinks and oranges as the nightlife ramped up. 

Much like Boston, Tony only had to venture blocks away from home to find a suitably loud and crowded bar, and much like  _ anywhere _ he was let in without a second glance, or a request for his ID.  Being the president’s son had its perks, and as much as he hated the polite “This way, Mr. Stark,” of one of the employees fawning over him, he followed her to the VIP section, which was less crowded, but just as loud with the rhythmic thumping of bass as the rest of the establishment. 

A bottle of whiskey appeared moments later, ‘on the house,’ and Tony settled in, taking a shot and wincing at the burn in his throat, even as he watched his protective detail post themselves just on the other side of the velvet rope. 

It wasn’t long before he was leaning back on one of the plush leather couches, the rapidly diminishing bottle of liquor on the table, a glass in one hand, and the other on the waist of a pretty blonde who was studying political science at Georgetown. Or was she the anthropology major from George Washington? He wasn’t totally sure, but he didn’t let it stop him from laughing quietly at the story she was telling him about her sorority sister, taking his cue more from her pause than the story itself as he carefully watched the agents that still stood guard feet away from him.

It had gotten crowded, even in the VIP section, and the roar of the crowd was almost enough to compete with the driving base of the music, which hadn’t faltered since they’d arrived. The air was thick with body heat and hazy with smoke, the flashing lights from the dance floor making it the perfect cacophony of distraction. Now was the time. 

“You wanna dance?” he asked his companion, his voice slightly slurred, cutting off her story. 

The blonde didn’t seem to care all that much anyway, an excited smile crossing her face as she nodded, tossing a waterfall of pale hair over her shoulder.

Tony stood and offered her a hand, which she took, lacing her fingers with his, and he thought that maybe he should have liked that instead of feeling a vague discomfort at the gesture. 

He carried on anyway, walking her over to the velvet rope where the agents stood patiently. “Babysitters, this is, uh…” He faltered for a moment, looking back to the blonde as he realized that he didn’t remember her name, or if she’d even mentioned it at all. 

“Stacey,” she supplied helpfully, eyelashes fluttering at him, and that bright smile still in place, she was either too drunk or too starstruck to care that he didn’t remember.

“Right. Stacey. This is Stacey, Stacey, these are the babysitters,” he introduced them with a flippant gesture between the two burly men before turning his attention back to the closer one, “we are gonna go dance.” 

It was a statement, not a question, and he let his voice slur a little more than necessary, then purposely wavered on his feet a little as they walked away. 

Tony carefully maneuvered his way through the crowd, reaching the middle of the dance floor with Stacey at his back, and he felt the agents’ eyes on him as he turned and pulled her back against his chest. His hands fell to her waist as they found the beat of the music and Tony used the rhythm and their swaying movement to drift further into the crowd, putting more bodies, more smokey air, more flashing lights between himself and his glorified leash. 

The song changed, one pounding baseline transitioning to another, accompanied by strobing lights and the cheering of the crowd, and that was his moment. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured in Stacey’s ear before slipping away from her and through the rest of the crowd, coming out at the bar’s back door, which he slipped through, leaning for just a moment against the bold letters proclaiming NO ENTRY to catch his breath and send a mental apology to Stacey for abandoning her. 

The night had fallen quickly since he’d disappeared inside, and the alley he found himself in was barely illuminated, so what little sense of self-preservation he had drove him back towards the street, loud and busy with ubers and drunken club patrons. 

He put a couple blocks between himself and the first bar, ducking into another with a cursory flash of his ID, the name it displayed once again enough to stop them questioning his age. 

Tony bypassed the VIP section this time, grabbing a seat at the bar next to a group of co-eds who drunkenly cheered as they recognized him and pushed a shot into his hand. He probably shouldn’t have rolled with it, but he shrugged and tossed back the liquor - tequila this time - and found himself posing for a selfie with his new friends, grinning tipsily and wondering how long it would be until Bucky was dragged out of bed to look for him. 

 

*****

 

Bucky knew why his phone was ringing before he even had enough wits about him to find it in the dark. No one ever called him between 10pm and 7am unless something had happened with Tony. Naturally, he was flooded with panic as soon as he realized that this  _ wasn’t Boston _ and Tony hadn’t just disappeared only to turn up back home. 

“Barnes.” He answered the phone groggily, running his hand through sleep mussed hair, eyes wide as the expected news came, Tony’d slipped his detail, they were searching for him now, and on watch at the White House residence, should he show up there. 

He was tugging on jeans and a jacket before the phone call ended and stepping out the door to meet a car that would deliver him to Tony’s last known location. 

The tracking system on his phone showed the placement of his agents in the area, one remained at the original bar while the other searched establishments nearby. The tracker in Tony’s phone placed him right on top of the first agent, so he’d clearly ditched it to keep from being followed.

Bucky groaned, getting out of the car and bypassing the line into the first bar with a flash of his badge, locating his guy near the entrance and only speaking to him after taking in the surroundings, the loud music, the smoke, the lights, “No wonder you lost him, it’s chaos in here. You’ve checked the whole place?”

The agent had the decency to look embarrassed but nodded, “Both levels and all four restrooms, as well as the back, he’s not here.” 

“Okay, then get out of here and start searching north, your partner’s taking south. Keep in contact.” He popped his own comm unit into his ear and headed back the way he came, stopping briefly to catch the bouncer’s eye, “You see Tony Stark come back this way, you don’t let him in, or I’ll have your liquor license revoked for serving underage.” he didn’t stop to see a reaction. 

Bucky started to head east and continue searching, nearly running over a group of girls as they crowded together for a selfie, and that gave him an idea. 

Tony was  _ smart _ and that was an understatement, but he wasn’t used to DC. Tony was famous in Boston, just like he was nationwide, but this was the heart of American politics, and people were going to be excited to see him. A sober Tony probably couldn’t avoid the smart phones in every hand and pocket, much less a drunk one. 

It took seconds, really, Bucky pulled up Instagram on his phone and searched Tony’s name, seeing that he’d been tagged in a number of photos in the last hour, all with a location tag of a dance club just down the street. He tucked his phone back in his pocket, marveling at the wonders of modern technology as he reported in that he had a location on Tony. 

He flashed his badge at the next bouncer, assured that he’d found the right place by the knowing look the burly man gave him, waving him inside. All finding him took was a quick glance, he was tucked in the middle of a group of chanting twenty-somethings, all tossing back shots of tequila like it was water in the desert. 

Bucky’s skin crawled for a moment as he watch the girl on one side of Tony giggle, clinging drunkenly to his bicep while the boy on the other side rested a hand on Tony’s thigh, inching it up higher with every passing moment.

The anger that rose up in him wasn’t entirely righteous, but that didn’t stop him from moving forward to push both of Tony’s companions away from him, and not gently. 

At the interruption, Tony looked up and saw Bucky, eyes lighting up and a drunken but bright smile breaking out across his face, “Bucky! You’re heere! I wunnered when ya’d come.” he was nodding vigorously, sloshing the shot glass of tequila still in his hand as he slipped off the barstool to turn and face Bucky, stumbling a little as he went. 

Bucky instinctually reached a hand out to steady him, and Tony nearly went limp into his arms, Bucky reacting quickly to hold up the bulk of his weight. 

“Let’s get you home now, okay.” He said with a gentleness that he couldn’t have mustered for anyone other than Tony, not with the anger and annoyance rushing through him. 

“Waitwaitwaitwait, Buck, I gotta stay w’ my new frens, we’re playin’ a game, ya should join!” he insisted, trying and failing to push himself off Bucky’s chest and regain his balance. 

In another world, Bucky would have laughed at that. If Tony was his friend and not his charge, he’d be amused by his drunken state, but in any world, he knew it was past time for Tony to call it quits. “I think it’s game over for you, Tones.” he said firmly, keeping one arm tighly around Tony’s shoulders while the other removed the shot glass from his hand and set it on the bar. He moved to lead Tony away, and met no resistance as they left, mostly unnoticed by Tony’s ‘new friends’ who had gone back to their game as soon as he’d stepped away. 

“Heartbreaker en route to residence, we need a car to my location and...probably someone to come settle his tab.” he spoke quietly into his comm and Tony made a face of annoyance but didn’t say anything, mostly leaning against Bucky’s sturdy presence as they waited for a car to arrive.

A black SUV rolled up moments later and Bucky ushered Tony into the back seat, sliding in after him and grabbing a water bottle from the door pocket to press into his hands. “Drink this.” he said, gentle but firm. He’d babysat enough drunk people in his life to know that they’d generally do what they were told if you said it just right. 

He wanted to berate Tony. Ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, but he didn’t. He didn’t say how angry he was, didn’t mention that Tony could have been hurt, kidnapped, killed, and he most certainly didn’t point out that Howard would be pissed about this, especially with election season coming just around the corner. 

Instead, he watched in silence as Tony sipped at his water bottle, looking sad and sleepy in the middle seat, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, hair flat and stuck to his skin where he’d been sweating in the crowded bar, dark circles under his eyes, and a glum expression that seemed too powerful to just be drunken sadness at leaving behind the friends he’d made. 

“You’re going to be okay, Tony.” he reassured, watching carefully as Tony met his eyes, but that disappointed look didn’t leave. 

Tony just sighed and dropped his head to rest on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky didn’t stop him. 

“You left.”

It came after a moment of silence, and slurred with sleepiness and intoxication, so much that Bucky didn’t think he’d heard it right. “What?”

“You said you’d protect me, and then you left.” this time the words were clear, Tony’s effort in getting them out right obvious, and they hit Bucky like a knife to the chest. 

Maybe he had. After what happened in January, he’d been freaked out over their kiss. It was  _ so wrong _ of him to feel the way he did about Tony, and he’d pushed those feelings down the best he could. 

Then Tony’d gone and  _ kissed him _ , and that had changed everything - except that it hadn’t. Everything was the same, those feelings were still wrong, there was just more temptation there. A foolish hope that Bucky could get what he wanted. 

“I’m sorry.” It was a whisper, and Tony didn’t answer. A few moments later Tony was snoring softly on his shoulder, where Bucky let him stay until they’d cleared the gates to the White House.

 

*****

 

A glass pitcher of water and a bottle of ibuprofen were already waiting on Tony’s side table when Bucky escorted him into his room, checking in with control on his comm unit in that infuriatingly calm tone of voice. 

Tony was feeling a little wobbly, a little fuzzy, but fine, really. He was fine. Or...he could stand on his own, and mostly think straight...so he was better than when they left the bar. 

Bucky’s apology echoed in his ears and he was a little embarrassed that he’d pretended to fall asleep upon hearing it. It wasn’t good enough, and he wanted to say that. He wanted a better explanation, even if he wasn’t going to like it. He turned around to demand one, but stopped short as he finally took a look at Bucky. Dressed in blue jeans and a rumpled tshirt, a ratty blue jacket stretched over his shoulders, and his hair messy and down, framing a tired face that was tipped up to the ceiling as Bucky reclined against the door, eyes closed either to nap where he stood or give Tony some privacy. 

His mouth watered. 

Before his brain could catch up with his body, Tony was striding forward, those same steps he’d taken months ago, but this time, Tony’s mouth found it’s way to Bucky’s exposed neck, biting the skin there and feeling Bucky jump in surprise under his hands as they found handfuls of shirt and jacket and hair and brilliant metal bicep.

A voice in the back of his mind wondered when Bucky would push him away, but he ignored it and dragged his lips up Bucky’s neck and jaw before pressing them to his mouth, searching and hungry. 

And then Bucky was  _ kissing him back _ . First the receptive slide of his lips, tongue gliding over Tony’s, and then hands, the metal one fisted in the hem of his shirt and the flesh cupping the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. 

Tony groaned, butterflies exploding in his stomach, bumps rising on his arms, heat pooling in his groin, and he stepped slowly backwards from the door towards his bed, pulling Bucky with him as he went, his head swimming with arousal and intoxication alongside his usual riot of thoughts and he couldn’t really  _ think _ at all. 

Bucky’s metal hand ran up his side and over his back while Tony’s found their way under that tshirt and slid over warm skin and taut muscle, pushing the fabric up, and up, only for it to fall back down as Tony’s legs made contact with the bed and he let himself fall back, pulling Bucky down over him. 

It was just as Tony was wondering to himself,  _ is this happening? _ that Bucky froze, hovering over Tony, propped up by his elbows on either side. Blue eyes widened in alarm and then he was shaking his head, “Oh, god, no, Tony, no, we can’t do this!” 

He pulled away from Tony like he’d been burned by his touch, taking a few stumbling steps back from the bed as Tony sat up on the edge, shoulders hunched over and arms wrapping tightly around himself. He was cold from the loss of Bucky’s weight and hands against his body as his mind flooded with hurt, disappointment, and shame.

“Why don’t you want me?” he whimpered softly, tears budding at the corners of his eyes even as he tried to blink them away. 

The look Bucky gave him at that was distraught, his head shaking violently, locks of brown hair slapping at his face and shoulders. 

“I do,” he answered lowly, and Tony couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“What?” he asked through a sniffle, watching Bucky’s shoulders slump as he came closer, kneeling on the floor in front of Tony. 

“I do, and that’s the problem because Tony...we  _ can’t. _ ” Bucky was pained, but resolute, it was plain to see, even in Tony’s state. 

“I don’t understand why not.” He did understand. Of course he did. Now he was just being petulant. 

“Yes you do,” Bucky’s voice tinged on fond, the corners of his mouth turning up the slightest bit. “It would be wrong while I’m supposed to be protecting you.” he explained anyway, words that sounded overused, even the first time Tony’d heard Bucky say them. 

“So...we can’t...right now.” Even intoxicated, Tony could find a loophole in any situation. 

Bucky let out a quiet, wet laugh, and it was only then that Tony realized they were  _ both _ crying. 

“No, not right now.” Here and now, that was enough for Tony, and he nodded, rubbing his hands over his face and feeling more than seeing Bucky stand and step back. “Are you okay to get into bed yourself?”

Despite the devil on his shoulder, Tony nodded, not making any moves to do so, but Bucky seemed appeased, requesting agents to post outside the door so he could go. 

“Don’t forget to drink water. Goodnight, Heartbreaker.”

The name felt suddenly so much heavier, and Tony remained silent under the weight of it as Bucky left his room. 

 

*****

 

Bucky’s flesh hand was shaking, and he closed it into a fist in an effort to stop it.  _ What was that? _ He scolded himself. How had he let himself be so overcome that he’d let things go that far? To take advantage of Tony like that in the state he was in tonight?

He was dripping with self loathing when he finally stepped away from Tony’s door, freshly rested agents stationed outside of it. 

There had been times that he’d wondered if he should step down, give up this position that he’d fought so fiercely for just to let himself feel what he felt about Tony, but he couldn’t. The job wasn’t the only reason that he and Tony couldn’t happen anyway. He was so young, and legal or not, that felt wrong. 

Of course...in a way he’d just made an ill-advised promise that they could happen, if only after this job was over. He was torn between hoping Tony didn’t remember that promise in the morning, and hoping he’d think of it every day until Howard’s last in office. 

For now, he had more pressing issues, those being the security cameras in the residence. 

Bucky hurried down the halls towards the control room, where security for the whole of the White House was based, finding Maria Hill at the desk, looking as tired as he felt. She normally worked the day shift, so he reasoned that she, too, had been woken to aide in the search for Tony. He’d have recognized her voice over the comms if he hadn’t been so preoccupied, he heard it frequently enough. 

“Agent Hill, I need-” he froze, in his overwhelmed and sleepless state, he hadn’t thought of what kind of excuse he could use to get his hands on the recordings. 

“I’m afraid if you’re looking for something from this evening, half the cameras in the residence blacked out for about...5 minutes, earlier.” she said with a tilt of her head and a knowing look that cut straight through to Bucky’s soul. 

“Oh, that’s uh...strange?” he said uncertainly, hoping that she was hinting what he thought she was. 

“Isn’t it though? The same thing happened a few months ago, an evening in January.” 

His eyes widened, realizing only then that he’d never looked into covering up that particular incident, with all that had been on his mind. 

“Is there anything else you need, because you look like you could use some beauty rest,” she quipped, snapping him out of his panicked thoughts. 

“No, I think I’ll just go,” he nodded, mostly to himself, and turned to leave. 

“Oh, and Agent Barnes?” he turned back to see her smile sweetly at him, “be a little more careful, you’re asking for trouble with that one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Stacey in the bar is absolutely Stacy from Drop Dead Diva, she's a gem, bless her heart, I love her.


End file.
